


Point of Entry

by heavvymetalqueen



Category: Metal Gear
Genre: M/M, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Sexual Dysfunction, Sounding, Urethral Play, mentions of sexual trauma, of course ocelot has a case full of urethral sounds come on
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-18
Updated: 2017-11-18
Packaged: 2019-02-04 02:05:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,347
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12760896
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heavvymetalqueen/pseuds/heavvymetalqueen
Summary: “I might have something that could help,” says Ocelot finally. “It is...a bit of a stretch, if you allow me the pun.”





	Point of Entry

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Kazoohira_Miller](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kazoohira_Miller/gifts).



> For wish #50, "Ocelot introduces Kaz to sounding."

Ocelot’s mouth is a furnace, his kiss so deep Kaz can barely breathe. They fumble through the door, drop onto the bed. Ocelot straddles him, sucks his tongue, rubs his long body all over him. The crisp sheets smell like his cologne, his hair is soft in Kaz’s hand.

It’s been so long, it’s been _months_ , Kaz feels hot, melting. The tension they built up in Room 101 today has broken the dam of their bizarre standoff and now is surging, swallowing them in heat.

“ _Kaz_.” Ocelot’s rough needy voice like soft leather. The uneven skin of his hands catching on Kaz’s chest, stomach, scars on scars.

It’s so hot, and Kaz wants this so much.

Then why can’t he fucking _relax_.

Ocelot’s hand groping at his crotch at first doesn’t seem to mind he isn’t hard. Unbuckles his belt, pops the button, slides warped fingers in Kaz’s underwear.

Still nothing.

Kaz grits his teeth as Ocelot touches his still flaccid cock, his rough fingertips like razorblades.

He’s almost hoping Ocelot will keep going like he would have a year ago, flip him on his stomach and fuck him hard as he cries. Maybe then he’ll stop feeling all those hands on him. But Ocelot’s hand slips out of his pants, almost apologetically.

Kaz really thought this would do the trick, and now he’s all out of ideas.

But, he guesses, he’s too damaged even for Ocelot now.

“How long have you had this problem?”

Kaz tilts his head towards the wall, biting the inside of his cheek.

“I see.”

“Sorry,” he grunts.

“Nothing to be sorry of. It’s not unusual after extensive physical and psychological trauma to have sexual dysfunctions.”

Ocelot’s clinical tone is not helping much.

He’s expecting to be asked to leave, but Ocelot starts undoing his tie, slides it out of Kaz’s collar before unbuttoning his shirt, unbuckling the entirely too many straps Kaz holds himself together with.

“Ocelot...”

“I’m just getting you a little more comfortable. I am not going to touch you if you don’t want me to.”

He pauses to pull off his shirt. Kaz notices the flush down his chest, his perked up nipples. He knows, as surely as he knows his own name, that Ocelot is still hard and ready to go.

Does not act on it. Gently removes Kaz’s clothing, wipes his hair from his face, slips his prosthetic leg off his stump and carefully props it against the bed. Kaz is naked and warm and genuinely enjoying being taken care of, even if he cannot reciprocate the way Ocelot would like him to.

“I might have something that could help,” says Ocelot finally. “It is...a bit of a stretch, if you allow me the pun.”

Kaz swallows. “I don’t...I don’t want to be fucked,” he croaks. He hasn’t even been able to _think_ about that since...well. Even if he doesn’t hurt anymore, even if the stitches and the chemical burns are long gone. He just can’t.

“I am not talking about your ass,” says Ocelot with a slight smile, long fingers running on the underside of Kaz’s soft cock as it lays on his stomach.

Kaz blinks.

Oh.

“You are not putting _anything_ in my dick.”

Ocelot’s smile widens a little. “I’ll have you know it’s very pleasurable. And not something you were subjected to, so you would not have negative memories attached to it.”

“Sticking things in my dick seems pretty negative to me.”

Ocelot cups Kaz’s cock, his thumb tickling the slit. “I’d be very gentle. I can guarantee I am a pro at this.”

“You...do this to your prisoners?” swallows Kaz.

“Lord, no. Urethral sounding is something I reserve _exclusively_ for recreational purposes.”

“ _You_ do it?”

“Hmm. Perhaps I’ll let you watch, next time.” He gives a small squeeze to Kaz’s cock. “But this time, I think you’d enjoy a different approach to sex. When’s the last time you came, Kaz?”

Kaz bites his lip. “That’s not a good memory.”

Ocelot leans down, and softly blows a breath over the tip of Kaz’s cock, cool and smoky. “Will you let me replace it with a good memory, then?”

Kaz swallows.

This is nuts.

But he also hasn’t been able to feel pleasure for so _long_. He wants that part of himself back.

“Alright,” he breathes. “But if it hurts....”

“Of course, I will stop immediately if you are uncomfortable or in pain.”

Kaz closes his eyes. Sure, whatever. Stick a rod up his dick. Can’t be worse than being gangraped for three days straight.

Ocelot hops off the bed then, shimmies out of his pants before heading into the bathroom. He’s back with a washcloth and a leather case, crouches back between Kaz’s legs.

“First off, as I’d rather avoid giving you a urinary infection, you should be squeaky clean.”

Kaz feels a flush of shame crawl up his cheeks, but Ocelot doesn’t seem to mind wiping him down, washing off the days old sweat off his pubes, gently rubbing warm water under his foreskin. It’s pleasant.

Ocelot helps Kaz get propped up on pillows before opening the case to reveal several rows of shiny metal rods. Some thin with bulbous ends, some notched, some gentle curves of smooth steel.

“I assure you these are all recently sterilized,” says Ocelot. “I keep my toys in perfect condition.”

“I’m sure.”

“These are Hegar sounds,” he says, showing off the line of curved, smooth rods. “They are the best for beginners, and the curved shape, well...”

Kaz tilts his head to the side. He’s still glancing at the largest rod with apprehension. There’s no way that thing fits in a dick. “What does it do?”

“It will allow me to stimulate your prostate. From the inside.”

Kaz swallows, and it’s not just because Ocelot’s voice dropped into a husky whisper.

“That...actually sounds interesting.”

“It’s really pleasant. Nothing you’ve ever done feels quite like it.”

Ocelot snaps on latex gloves before sliding out one of the rods, cleaning it with an alcohol wipe. Kaz clenches.

“That’s...can we start with the smallest one?”

Ocelot shakes his head. “Actually, that’s not a good idea. The ideal is a sound slightly bigger than your urethral passage. A smaller one would be loose inside and could cause injuries.”

“And how can you tell how big my urethra is?”

Ocelot gently lifts Kaz’s cock towards him, the latex of his gloves cool and smooth. His eyes are soft, almost nostalgic. “Believe me. I’ve put my tongue down your hole enough to know you’re a 4 gauge.”

“You’re so weird,” huffs Kaz. But he does not insist. He’s the expert on this.

And surprisingly enough, he knows Ocelot would never hurt him. Not like this.

Ocelot uncaps a glass bottle and slathers the sound in lubricant, pouring a shimmering dollop on the tip of Kaz’s cock before putting it away.

“Relax,” he says quietly, the glistening tip of the sound cold on Kaz’s sensitive skin. “It will feel good.”

Kaz takes a deep breath, lets it out slowly, and nods.

It’s an odd sensation. The metal is cool and the lube squelches softly. Kaz expects resistance or pressure, but it’s just a gentle stretch. Ocelot moves the sound slowly in and and out, dipping just the smooth tip inside, just enough for Kaz to feel it.

“Does it hurt?”

Kaz can feel himself relaxing already. “No. Doesn’t feel good, either.”

“Give it time.”

The steel is getting warmer. Ocelot angles the sound in such a way that it just...slides in, deeper than Kaz would have imagined it could. As he slowly pulls it out, Kaz feels the fullness leave him, leave him empty. It’s kind of similar to pissing after holding it for a long time when it goes out, but when it glides in again Kaz starts to feel the fullness, the pressure toeing the edge between pleasure and discomfort.

It definitely feels like no sex Kaz has ever had.

He glances away from the bizarre spectacle of his cock with a piece of metal stuck in it to realize just how intently, how _hungrily_ , Ocelot is looking at him. He is flushed pink, his lips parted and slick. His cock is tucked against his stomach, hard and leaking into his pale hair.

“You really like this, don’t you,” he says.

“Yeah,” smiles Ocelot candidly, slowly spinning the sound in his fingers, the curve and the tip of it hitting spots in Kaz’s cock he didn’t even know he had. “Can I go deeper?”

“Yes.”

Ocelot pushes the sound in a good inch, and Kaz gasps. A latex-covered finger presses on the middle of Kaz’s shaft, and he can feel its pressure right against the tip of the rod. It feels, honestly, incredible. Ocelot’s finger follows the tip as he slides it out, and once it’s out Kaz feels empty, hungry.

More lube is added, leaking down the side of Kaz’s cock. He’s still soft, but there’s definitely some activity going on, almost as if he’s straining to get more of the slowly warming instrument inside of him.

“You have such a good shape for this,” says Ocelot slowly, licking his lips as he slides the sound in again, deeper still, pulling it out painstakingly slowly. “Not too long, not too stretched out. It will feel so good when you’re hard.”

“If I get hard at all,” grunts Kaz, although he can feel a familiar throb at the base of his cock already building up.

“I promise you, it will happen. Even if I have to spend all day on it.”

“Remind me to assign you more tasks. You’re slacking off.”

Ocelot just hums, thrusting the sound with a gentle, fluid movement of his wrist.

“God,” groans Kaz, his legs spreading and his hips twitching. “Why does it feel good.”

“There are thousands of nerve endings inside your penis, of course it feels good when you let me fuck it.”

Kaz’s toes curl. It really does feel like Ocelot is fucking him in the weirdest way yet. He gets the stretch he likes, without the traumatic memories currently not allowing him to enjoy it.

And Ocelot looks _so into it_ , it’s driving Kaz crazy.

The blunt tip is deep enough now Kaz is starting to feel it inside him, smoothly nudging closer and closer to where Kaz is throbbing hollowly, desperate for contact.

When it finally brushes his prostate, it’s like being hit by _lightning_. It’s a thousand times more direct and intense than even the best prostate massage, and he’s pretty sure he just screamed.

“You see why I like it?” whispers Ocelot, twisting the tip of the rod deeper into his swelling, pulsing prostate.

“Jesus _fuck_ ,” grits out Kaz, twitching so hard he can’t breathe.

Ocelot pulls back just enough to release the pressure. Kaz can breathe again, but he also would shove his hand into his own dick right now to feel that again.

“Patience,” whispers Ocelot, on his knees between his legs, leaning down to press his lips to the underside of Kaz’s cock.

Kaz has gotten many, many blowjobs in his life. None, absolutely _none_ , has felt like Ocelot’s wet mouth on him right now. Every nerve ending is sparking with electricity, way more nerve endings Kaz ever realized he had. The rough tongue pressed against the tip of the sound from the outside is incredible.

And Kaz, finally, gets hard.

The swell of his cock makes the smooth metal inside of it even more noticeable, makes it feel thicker, like he’s stuffed. Ocelot licks and sucks and mouths his shaft, staying carefully away from the head despite how much Kaz wishes he could push down his throat, sound and all.

Now every slow thrust of the rod prods his prostate, enough to make him moan but not nearly enough to push him over the edge, and when Ocelot presses his knuckles into his perineum Kaz sobs, begs, might be drooling down his chin with overstimulation, throbbing between the double pressure and with Ocelot’s tongue lapping under his foreskin.

“Are you gonna come for me, Kaz?” breathes Ocelot over his burning skin, the sound tapping deep and fast inside of him. “Been so long since I’ve tasted you. I’m not going to waste a drop.”

Kaz arches off the mattress with a groan, heat expanding in waves from his core, so close, so....

Ocelot pulls the sound out just as it all gets too much. The sudden emptiness is enough and he’s coming, right on Ocelot’s waiting pink tongue, coming so much he feels he can’t _stop_ , his calf cramping and his whole body pulsing, and Ocelot milks out every last drop out of him, months of frustration down his throat, leaking into his beard.

It’s only when Ocelot lets go of his cock and crawls over him, hot and dripping, that Kaz realizes he’s coming, too, without touching himself at all. Kaz holds him close, kisses him, thrusts his thigh between his, feels him moan and twitch against him.

“Shame,” he growls into his mouth as Ocelot’s hot come drips down his thigh. “I was hoping you could show me how the professional does it.”

Ocelot straddles his sides, his thighs still twitching against him. “Give me ten minutes and I’ll show you all my tricks.”

Kaz laughs. “Some of us have _jobs_ , Ocelot.”

Ocelot leans over the edge of the bed, picks up Kaz’s trenchcoat and drops it onto his face as he taps Kaz’s iDroid on. “Vulture,” he rasps in a half-assed imitation of Commander Miller’s voice. “Ocelot and I are not to be disturbed until morning. Absolute emergencies only.”

_Understood, si---_

But he’s already tossed the iDroid over his shoulder to glue himself to Kaz’s mouth.

“So,” whispers Kaz, the ball of his hand pressed against Ocelot’s still soft cock. “Do you ever use the big one.”

“Sometimes. Would you like to see?”

Kaz lies back onto the pillows, arm behind his back. “Please.”

Sometimes, trusting Ocelot’s dumb plans is not so bad after all.

 

 

 


End file.
